


burning like a house aflame

by Grigori_girl



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:00:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grigori_girl/pseuds/Grigori_girl
Summary: a collection of twc prompts too small for their own fic; tags will be updated as i go.recent chapter: f!Detective/Adam du Mortain - things you said over the phone
Relationships: Female Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Ava du Mortain
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. things sad after a kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tuomniia asked: ‘things you said after you kissed me’ for whoever you vibe? 👀
> 
> Ava du Mortain/f!Detective (Billie Parker)

The first time Ava du Mortain kisses her, she apologizes. 

Billie has only a moment to recognize how soft the hard line of her mouth feels against her own, little more than a second for her mind to catch up to her body and  _ kiss back _ , when Ava’s already pulling away. Face flushed (different, she notices, than the indignant coloring of her cheekbones or the flustered pink of her ears; Billie’s sure she’ll soon have a catalogue on the commander’s tells) from her hairline to her heaving chest. 

She wants to be happy. Wants to rejoice that finally,  _ finally _ they’ve made progress, even if they had to reach it by fighting (over what? Billie can’t remember; as unimportant and cyclical as always, she’s sure), but she knows the look in Ava’s eyes all too well. The shock at the vulnerability, the instant regret, the shuttering of her feelings behind a wall Billie can only hope to ever scale. 

“Ava,” her grip on her arms tightens, begging her not to go. “Please.” 

Billie has never pushed her for more than she was willing to give, assumed that in her near-millenia of life she’d been through more than enough to merit some patience, and that was  _ fine _ .  _ Is _ fine. Still doesn’t stop the rejection from stinging, sharp, like needles beneath the skin. 

“I’m sorry.” Ava chokes on the words, the crush of her brow makes the shadows of her eyes seem deeper, the green cold, blistering, even as her hands--large and calloused and oh so tender against her skin--cradle her face like she’s something precious, like she doesn’t want to let go. “I-I shouldn’t have.” 

“No, it’s fine. I mean-” Billie trips, stumbles over her words, trying to find a balance between her own want and Ava’s comfort, wants,  _ needs _ , for her to know that there’s nothing wrong, please don’t leave,  _ I’d rather pretend it never happened than push you way-- _

But she’s already coming back to herself, impeccable self-control wrested back under her control. Her hands leave Billie’s face, leaving her cold, feeling naked, like she’d been stripped of all her carefully curated defenses to fortify Ava’s instead. She feels her pull away, and Billie drops her hands before she makes things worse, curls them to her chest to preserve the warmth of her touch. 

They stand there a moment, in the oppressive silence of the training room, not quite looking at each other. This is familiar, she tells herself, easy. A stone worried smooth. Billie knows what to do with this, this gentle rejection, and after a single second left to savor the memory of Ava’s lips on hers, she tucks it away and straightens her shoulders. 

“I, uh. I promised I’d help Nate with his research, when we were done here.” She says to the space somewhere over Ava’s left shoulder. 

She nods. “Of course. We’re done here, anyway.” 

Something in her voice makes Billie pause, only for a second, before she nods herself. “Right. Of course. I’ll...leave you to it, then.” Her sneakers squeak against the polished wood of the floor as she hastily makes her exit. What was it that Nate said? That she’d benefit more from learning to disengage and get the hell out of dodge? Solid advice. She should’ve listened. 

Billie doesn’t look back, but if she had, perhaps she would’ve seen the way Ava sunk to the floor, head in her hands. 


	2. things said over the phone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pearlsandsteel asked: 4 for A x detective 💕
> 
> 4\. Things you said over the phone - Adam du Mortain/f!Detective (Billie Parker)

“Adam, I’m _fine_. I can take care of myself.” 

“I am aware,” he says without hesitation, and she can imagine the look on his face, the one that simultaneously says _‘I’m not doubting you’_ and _‘I_ did _train you myself.’_

Her laughter is muffled, life not quite given form, bottled sunshine. “And yet this is the, what? Fourth time you’ve called since I left?” 

“Third.” He corrects, a little too fast, and is rewarded again with the rasp of her laughter. Something in his chest twists, sharp, ribs overlapping.

“Oh, my apologies.” There’s shifting over Billie’s end of the line, the squeak of bedsprings, a soft sigh as she settles. Adam strains to hear more, desperate to hear the familiar rhythm of her heart, the steady tide of her breath, curses the phone for hindering his hearing; suddenly understanding Nat’s dislike of the things. “How’re things back home? Still weird and wonderful without me there to whip everyone into a frenzy?” 

“Quiet.” Is all he says, tense. “What about there?”

Billie hears the strain in his voice, recognizes it for what it is, and her smile is soft and private, a secret between her and the dingy hotel room. “ _Fine_. I told you, honey, everything’s okay. Morgan and Felix have my back, it’s nothing we can’t handle.” 

The term of endearment makes him soften, eyes closing, focusing on the sound of her voice. “I know. It does not mean I won’t worry.” 

“You? Worried?” Billie affects to a scandalized gasp. 

“Okay-”

“Adam du Mortain, I do believe you’re going soft on me.” 

“Enough.” But he’s defeated, love-ruined. Millenia-old walls destroyed by one human woman, easy as tearing through tissue paper; all of his time is spent _worrying_. She is fragile and reckless, head-strong and _good_ (a point of contention, between them; a fact she deems mere opinion). She is everything. She is mortal. He is terrified, constantly, but even more so when he’s not there to protect her, to ensure her safety with his own two hands. 

There is a moment of silence between them, slow and warm, thick like the honey she stirrs into her late-night tea. He imagines the outline of her, how she fits at his side, like a piece long missing. Six hours away, Billie does much the same, traces the spaces where he would fit in this too-small room; in the armchair by the window, bathed in the filmy light of the sinking sun, reports in hand because he is not one to rest when work is to be done; sunk into the bed beside her, arm snaked around her waist because the bed is just on this side of too-small for the both of them; her hands in his hair, smoothing across the broad line of his shoulders, coaxing him to relax, for once, for her. 

“The mission is almost over.” She reminds him softly, feels the marrow-ache of his absence. “We’ll be home in a couple days. Maybe sooner.” 

Adam sighs, a soft exhale. “I know.” 

“Doesn’t make it easier.” 

“No. It does not.” 

Billie hesitates, feels the conditioned shut-down in the face of honesty, of vulnerability. She was not a woman made for the gentleness of love, was not built to look upon the face of this heart-terror without flinching. This is new and terrifying in its depth, this is a thousand years in the making, and she is sure her hands are not made to hold it. Adam is delicate and precious, her shaking hands will drop him, shatter him to pieces. 

She fears the inevitable fall, for the moment she brings ruin to this place behind his walls. 

But more than that...she fears losing him, of wasting this narrow chance. 

“I miss you.” She says, a breath of a whisper, feels the flinch of a skipped heartbeat.

Billie’s is a heart that shies away from the light that peeks through the blinds of her ribs, a sun-deprived prisoner unused to this blooming warmth, when Adam says, just as soft, “I miss you, too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Find me over on tumblr @grigori-girl!


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